


Mark II

by ziskandra



Series: red, green, blue [3]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Control Ending, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27167677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/pseuds/ziskandra
Summary: Shepard doesn't leave a body behind this time.
Relationships: Miranda Lawson/Female Shepard
Series: red, green, blue [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004262
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38
Collections: Shipoween 2020 - The Halloween Ship Exchange!





	Mark II

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sheeana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheeana/gifts).



Shepard doesn't leave a body behind this time.

The realization never fails to knock the air out of Miranda's lungs. She'd always known her lover's mission was risky, but prior to receiving the confirmation, she'd always believed Shepard was invincible. Indestructible.

And even on the off chance she _wasn't_ , Miranda could reassemble her: the Lazarus Project, Mark II.

But Shepard doesn't leave a body behind this time. She is simply gone, gone, gone, lost to the vacuum of space.

Miranda is a genius who can work near miracles but even she must accept she cannot create nothing from something.

There is no memorial. There are many memorials. It's like every damned planet in the galaxy has a Shepard Statue in each of its major metropolises. But there is no intimate ceremony, nothing that remembers the woman, not the legend.

But Shepard hadn't left a body behind this time, and it is difficult to grieve without closure. Some of Shepard's old crewmates believe she's still out there somewhere, maybe under an assumed name, so she doesn't have to bear the weight of the galaxy's problems any longer.

Miranda refuses to believe them. If Liara's connections can't find Shepard, she might as well not exist. But more importantly, Miranda can't accept that Shepard would run away somewhere, like to a holiday colony sipping cocktails by the pool. Not alone. Not without Miranda.

It's one day at a time, one foot in front of the other, in those precarious days after the Reaper War.

She’s almost found something akin to what a therapist would call a ‘new normal’ when she receives the first email. It leaves her breathless once more.

 _Miranda,_ it says, _it’s Shepard. We need to talk._

*

Miranda’s fear that the rumours are true is soon alleviated. Shepard _hadn't_ left a body behind this time. The physical shell that had once housed Commander Shepard is gone now. Only her mind remains, uploaded into the shared consciousness of the Reapers, functioning as their leader, the only obstacle between them and the galaxy’s assured destruction.

If anything, this revelation is even worse than the ones that had come before it. Every time Shepard returns one of her messages, a numb sort of horror creeps over Miranda’s muscles, seeps into her bones.

She had loved Shepard, body and soul.

There is no body any longer. The old mantra replays in Miranda’s mind. _Shepard hadn’t left a body behind._ There would be no more lazy mornings in bed together, no interlaced fingers nor needy kisses. It is all over before it had a chance to become routine.

 _If we both come back from this, everything will be different._ Miranda had said, during their conversation before the assault on Earth.

She hadn’t known back then just how right she was.

*

 _Do you still love me?_ Shepard asks one day while Miranda’s still sleeping, knows Miranda’s sleeping. Shepard is everywhere now, omnipresent and eternal.

Miranda’s stomach churns at the question. She starts typing out answers, then deleting them as she loses her nerve, uncertainty clouding her every action. Only Shepard had ever made her feel this way.

 _Because you shouldn’t_. Shepard’s next message comes while Miranda’s still deliberating her own. It makes her own reply strangely easier.

_Yes. Always. Forever._

It’s refreshingly familiar, this sort of conversation. It’s so often been like this between them: one of them pulls away, and the other follows. It’s an attraction that can ascend the lack of a physical platform. Thinking about _physical platforms_ reminds Miranda of EDI, and an idea begins bubbling at the back of Miranda’s mind.

 _What are you plotting?_ asks Shepard, and Miranda smiles, tapping out an answer on her omni-tool.

_I have an idea._

*

It’s a slow-going process, but Miranda never anticipated it would be _easy_. Her knowledge of human anatomy far outstrips her knowledge (or anyone’s knowledge) of Reaper design. But Shepard controls the Reapers now (for now), and it’s easy enough for her to download the schematics, send them to Miranda.

 _Is this what you want?_ Miranda asks.

 _Nobody ever asks what I want,_ answers Shepard.

The reply should stop Miranda in her tracks.

She continues anyway.

Shepard might not have left a body behind this time, but her body had never been the most part important of who she was a person, anyway. And besides, Miranda's always at her best when she's working on a project. 


End file.
